Escape!
by XXAlmostInsaneXX
Summary: What if Neal didn't escape because of Kate? What if there was a darker reason behind his bizarre plan? What will Peter do once he finds out?
1. Chapter 1

"Dammit!" Peter banged his fist on the table. It had all been a decoy. A setup. He had been so close to catching the Dutchman and he had slipped through his fingers. Again. He was beginning to tire of this game of cat and mouse.

He ran a hand through his prematurely greying brown hair, attempting to calm himself when through the smoke and haze caused by the bomb he saw Diana walking briskly towards him. The look on her face gave Peter the uneasy feeling that this wasn't going to be good. But word of this most recent failure to catch the notorious Dutchman couldn't have traveled up so fast, could it?

He hastened towards her, not wanting her to get involved in the mess caused by the bomb going off when he had triggered the booby trap in the safe, but before he could utter a word she stopped him with a single sentence. "Caffery escaped."

"Neal?" he groaned. "But that doesn't make sense! By now he must have had only four months left. Why did he run now?" His mind had already started looking for explanations and answers.

"Don't know that Boss." Diana replied. "But the Marshals requested for your assistance specifically."

"Mine?" he looked suspicious. "Why?"

"Maybe because you were the only person who ever managed to put the infamous Neal Caffery behind bars?" Diana suggested, smiling.

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><p>Peter shut off the engine and slumped in the seat of his Ford. It had been a long day. The meeting with the Marshals had not gone well. He had been irked with them for letting Caffery get away and had failed to reign in his frustration and had let a snide remark slip once… Or twice. Then there had been the usual orders of starting the man-hunt: the posters on every bus stand and Airport, the red flag for all of Neal's aliases, and the calls at all his previous hide-outs. But there had been no sign of the con-man. It had been a hell of a long day.<p>

Looking forward to an appetizing dinner and the safe refuge of his wife's embrace he mustered up the strength to open the door and drag himself into the house. "Honey I'm home!" He called out, managing to not trip over the excited dog that had rushed out to greet him.

"Satchmo! Leave daddy alone." Elizabeth chided the poor beast. "Oh Honey you look tired! Is everything alright?" She exclaimed taking in her husband's haggard appearance and pulling him in for a hug.

"Hmm…" Peter murmured into his wife's lush black hair. "Caffery escaped."

"Neal Caffery? That explains why you look like as if a truck ran you over," El chuckled ruffling her husband's hair. "Don't worry you'll get him back, just like you did before." She consoled him with a quick peck on the lips.

"I know that honey," Peter said, a smile tugging at his lips at his wife's attempt to cheer him up by boosting his ego. "But what I can't understand is why he ran now. He had only four months of his prison sentence left."

"That's it? Four months?" El's forehead creased as she thought about it. "That doesn't seem very smart of him."

"And you and I both know that Neal Caffery is nothing if not smart." Peter agreed.

"Well Honey, then there has to be a reason that he ran. He had to have been troubled or motivated by something to pull a stunt like that. You find that reason and you'll find your man." El made one last observation before moving into the kitchen to fix some much needed dinner.

As Peter flopped down on the couch his wife's words kept running through his head until he fell into a restless slumber.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Do not own White Collar or the characters.

Author's Note: Uhh this might contain some adult ideas, though nothing graphic. You've been warned.

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><p>Peter walked through the doors of the FBI Office and went straight to the coffee corner. He needed his fuel to gear him up for the day. Reaching his office he gave the double finger point to Diana who was anyway coming upstairs. "Any sightings of Caffery?" he asked, already knowing by the look on her face that there was nothing. "Alright, I need you to tell everyone that I'm calling a meeting in 5 minutes. I want to see every agent on this floor in the conference room." He instructed her before switching on his computer and sorting his inbox. Who knew, maybe the kid had enough guts to send him an E-mail, what with all the importance he put on anniversaries and birthdays…<p>

"OK, finding Caffery is our top most priority right now. I want every agent in this room on his tail." Peter geared up the huge crowd inside the conference room as soon as he walked in.

"Jones, I need a detailed account of Caffery's life in prison for the last three months. Every single detail, from what he ate to what mess he got himself into, I want everything on him.

"Diana, you go and talk to the guards and inmates. I want to know all that happened behind those bars discreetly enough to not be put on the records. If you think anyone is holding back on something, especially the guards, arrest them immediately.

"Smith and Cruz, both of you are to be stationed outside Neal's old apartment throughout. Maybe he'll return to get something.

"The rest of you will be on alert for any calls indicating that Caffery has been sighted anywhere. Also be on the lookout for anyone using the aliases Neal had. Come on everyone, move it. I need this man in cuffs and behind bars by the end of the day."

As Jones walked out of the office and pressed the button for the elevator, Diana caught up with him. "On your way to prison? Good I'll come with you."

"Boss is really serious about catching this guy isn't he?" Jones asked once both of them were alone in the elevator.

"Well he did cause Peter three years of his life. It's like he owes it to Caffery." Diana reasoned, smiling at the memory of Peter letting a 'Neal' slip instead of the usual 'Caffery'

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><p>Taking a sip of the brown sludge that passed as coffee in the office, Peter grimaced and set down the cup. He rubbed his eyes mechanically while squinting to make out the post it notes written in his own untidy writing in Caffery's file almost 5 years ago. Calling this huge mountain of papers a 'file' seemed to strike him as an understatement. But there had to be something that he had missed all those years ago. Something hidden deep within the stack of photos, receipts, eye witness accounts and victim's statements. He just had to look hard enough.<p>

His phone buzzed and he thankfully flipped his open, hoping against all hope that they had a lead. "Diana, tell me you have something for me."

"Hey Boss, I went and interviewed all the inmates who knew Caffery and guess what? One of them let it slip that Caffery had barely managed to escape a huge brawl the previous week. Three of the most dangerous prisoners had ganged up against him and it had only been a lot of sweet talking which had let Caffery get away from the beating of his lifetime."

Peter perked up instantly. "And what did the guards have to say?"

Diana smiled. She had known that that would be the first question on her senior agent's mind. "Most of them denied any knowledge of any such incident. But when I made it clear that I already know who was involved and what had happened, they turned pretty defensive, giving me a lot of BS on how each man must carter for himself in here and how they can't to be held responsible if Caffery got himself into a tight spot every now and then."

"Good work Diana. Are you OK, you sound tired?" Peter asked, finally noting the worked out tone of his probie.

"Peter I don't think I'll be able to come back to the office today. I just got a call from Christie's number. She has been in an accident."

"I'm so sorry!" Peter sympathized hating himself for not asking earlier. "It's completely fine. Take the rest of the day off and keep me updated on her condition alright?"

"Will do boss, thanks." Diana replied before ending the call, probably on her way to the hospital already.

Peter snapped his phone shut just as Jones walked through the glass doors of the office and started making his way to Peter's Office. "Jones what have you got?" Peter quickly ushered him inside.

"I got all the surveillance tapes from all the cameras for the past four months. Also there are guard's reports on Caffery's behavior and a list of all the people who ever visit him in the years that he was there." Jones replied handing Peter a three files, along with a stack of papers.

Peter held out a hand for the offered documents when a tape fell out of the pile. "Oh and that is Caffery's medical examination tape." Jones clarified in answer to Peter's questioning glance.

"Medical examination? Why would they make a tape of that?" Peter was confused. Normally only written records were kept on patient's health.

"They are only for the past week, sir. A new doctor had been recruited as a replacement for the old one and his first few patients were taped so as to observe the doctor's methods."

"And Caffery was among these patients?" Peter inquired.

"Yes sir. He had a meeting with the doctor three days before he escaped. Had another one scheduled for today."

"Good work Jones. I'll look at the surveillance footage to detect some evidence of a brawl that Diana told me Caffery only nearly escaped. You go through the guard's reports and see if you come up with any behavioral oddities in this past two weeks." Peter had already inserted the disk into his computer by the time Jones turned around to head back to his desk.

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><p>Peter honked at the car in front of him out of sheer exasperation, glaring at the GPS monitor which showed him that there was a road black ahead because of some protestors group putting up some god forsaken demonstration. He had been on his way home, intending to watch the rest of the footage there while taking care of Satchmo. El's mother had broken her knee and she would be with her at the hospital for the rest of the night. Though he pitied the poor old lady for having to go through that much pain at such an old age, the prospect of coming back to an empty home did not improve his mood. And this blasted road block wasn't helping things either. He should have been at the office going through evidence, not sitting in his car with nothing to do but wait.<p>

An idea struck him as he gazed forlornly at the huge stack of papers which was Neal's life sitting in the passenger seat. Maybe he could get some work done after all, he thought remembering the tape Jones had handed in with the files and rummaging through the stack till he found it. He inserted it in the player and setting the volume on high set back in his seat, finally content on getting some work done, however minor, which would help him catch that blasted kid, instead of just sitting and swearing in his car.

There wasn't any video and the audio itself wasn't very clear. But Peter sat up straight when he heard Neal's Inmate Number being announced. The sound of a metal door opening could be discerned followed by some shuffling.

"Name and age?" A grim voice asked, presumably the doctor.

"Neal Caffery, 22", Neal's voice sounded wary.

"Alright, it's time for your medical evaluation. Lose all your clothes and bend over." Peter started at the odd command. A medical exam did include the removal of clothes, but bending over? Apparently Neal seemed to be surprised as well.

"Is that really necessary?" His tone had become hard and defensive.

"I'll show you what is necessary." The doctor's voice had raised several notches in volume. "Guards, help this worthless excuse of a human being out of his clothes!"

Peter gripped the steering wheel tightly as after a lot of shuffling a bang was heard. "Right, now hold him like that. And hold his legs open for me." The doctor seemed to be satisfied with whatever had taken place.

"Please stop! You're hurting me!" Neal's voice was weak and muffled.

"Should 'ave thought of that earlier, sucker... This here is a real pretty bitch, ain't he?" a third scruffy voice whom Peter assumed to be the guard said, followed by guffaws all around.

Peter held his breathe and stared at the car in front of him mechanically as the sound of Neal moaning and pleading to be let go and his captors making fun of him and doing god knows what to him played around him. By the time the tape ended, it was clear from the increasing protests on Neal's part and the guard's comments that what had occurred was much more humiliating and degrading than a simple medical exam should ever be. Neal had been sexually violated in prison. Peter took in ragged breathes as the memory of Neal's helpless pleas sounded in his ears. He was gripping the wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. His eyes had the enraged look of a man whose son had just been taken advantage of and he hadn't been able to do anything other than look on helplessly.

This was his fault. Of course Neal ran. Neal, from whom his self-respect and integrity, his most prized qualities, had been ripped away from in the confines of the dark prison; a prison which Peter had sent him to. It was all his fault. He should have known something like this would happen. Neal was never a fighter, he was too much of a pacifist to ever be able to hold his own in prison. And that too Super- Max: where all the dangerous killers and rapists were sent to reform. God knows what the poor boy must have gone through... what he must be going through.

Peter jerked upright from his mental desperation with that thought. Neal had been hurt. His individuality had been threatened. He wouldn't be able to bear that. Peter fervently prayed to anyone who might be listening up there to let Neal be strong. If the kid took his own life because of what had happened to him in prison, because of what Peter had put him through; Peter would never be able to live with himself.

'Where are you, son? Please wherever you are, just sit tight. I'll find you.' Peter vowed to himself, his resolution strengthened ten times not because Neal was a runaway fugitive who needed to be caught and imprisoned, but because Neal was out there, alone and hurting, and he, Peter Burke had caused that to happen.

The road in front of him cleared and Peter stepped on the pedal, a single thought running in his head. If Neal was alive, which he had to pray for his own sanity that he was, then he would have taken refuge at the place where he had last found love from. Where he had found Kate and where Peter had found him.

The Ford's tyres screeched as Peter made a U-turn heading straight for the warehouse, praying and hoping that his hunch was right.

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><p>Tell me how that was people. This is my first time writing instead of simply reading for this fandom, so any feedback on my writing would be cherished and appreciated.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Peter drove like a man possessed. His eyes were fixed on the road and his hands gripped the wheel like as if they were holding on to life itself, but his mind had gone back, revisiting that memorable day: the day he had caught Neal Caffery. They had figured out what the con- man had wanted most and had set out a trap using his ex-girlfriend Kate as bait. And Neal had fallen right for it. Peter remembered the triumph he had felt on finally saying the one sentence he had been waiting to utter for three years: "Neal Caffery you are under arrest."

And then Neal had put out a hand and thanked him. There wasn't anything but sincerity in those clear blue eyes as he had thanked Peter for helping him find his Kate. Peter's resolve had faltered for a moment when he had grasped Neal's warm hand in a cordial hand shake. As they had led him away in hand cuffs, he had turned to gaze at her. At Kate. And that one look had soured Peter's triumph. That wasn't the look of defeat, nor was it shamed or angry. No, it was a look of pure love, a look which apologized for all the promises that had been broken and a look that hoped for happiness and contentment for his lover. It was a look of a torn man and even today Peter could close his eyes and see the conflict of happiness at finding his love and the anguish of losing her all over again displayed on the young, chiseled face of Neal Caffery as if it was etched into his memory forever.

Peter finally saw the warehouse in sight and pulled on the brakes. It was in a deserted area in the outskirts of the city and there wasn't a soul in sight. The shutters were half down and Peter had to duck to go in after parking his Ford haphazardly outside. It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the semi darkness which engulfed the warehouse. After a few minutes he could make out the long rows of large crates and boxes illuminated by the few bulbs which hung from the high ceiling. He started walking down the same row of crated that he had walked that afternoon. But then he had felt an eager anticipation of finally closing in on his quarry which he had hunted for almost half decade. Now a feeling of dread engulfed him as he prayed fervently that he find Neal at the same place he had found him then. Alive.

He broke out in a run down the long narrow passage in between the crates, stopping when he got to the place where he had shook hands with his adversary all those years ago. "Neal?" he called out tentatively. A strange sixth sense pulled him in between two crates and he entered a small clearing in between the boxes. A single lamp provided enough light to barely make out the shape of someone huddled in the corner. Peter picked up the lamp and approached cautiously, his hand on the holster of his gun, though he did not draw it. He bended over the shivering figure and was able to make out the pale skin shining with a thin film of sweat; forehead almost hidden behind a torrent of black bangs and eyes shut close.

"Neal?" he whispered reaching out carefully. Suddenly the man shot up and lashed out hitting Peter square in the jaw and shoving him back.

"Get away from me!", Neal shouted, trying to stand up only to collapse halfway through. Peter tried going to him but the look on Neal's face stopped him. His big blue eyes were glazed but filled with distrust and wariness.

"Hey buddy, it's OK I'm not going to hurt you.", Peter tried to calm the agitated man down and moved closer when he didn't strike out again. Peter slowly knelt down to help Neal sit up. The kid was delirious with fever, but his eyes focused on Peter.

"Pet'r?", his voice was hoarse from disuse.

"Yea buddy, it's me." Peter sighed in relief. "We have got to get you out of here. You are burning up."

Neal had relaxed slightly when Peter had removed his hair from his face but seemed to tense up again at these words. "NO! I won't...", he started thrashing. "I won't go back!"

Peter mentally slapped himself. Of course! The poor kid must be thinking that he was back to arrest him. Well… That was what he was here to do, right? But after finding out what had happened, he couldn't possibly haul him back to that hell hole, could he? And especially not in such a fragile state of body and mind. But...what else can he do? He was a fugitive on the run, wasn't he?

Making up his mind rapidly, he caught Neal's thrashing arms in a firm grip till he looked up at him. "Relax son. I'm not taking you prison." he said slowly so as to not agitate him further.

"No, no prison... bad people, hurts..." Neal spluttered unable to form coherent sentences. Confusion clouded his eyes and they focused on him again. "Pet'r?"

"Yes buddy it's me. And I'm not taking you to prison. I am taking you home." Peter smiled at the weak man in front of him through the tears shining in his eyes. The amount of horrible things that he must have endured at prison to get such a reaction out of him even in his feverish state made Peter tremble with rage and grief.

"Home? Don't 'ave home...", Neal blinked, still confused.

"Yes you do, now tell me honestly, are you hurt anywhere?" Peter asked needing to know if he could move him without hurting him.

"No...head 'urts... badly." Neal managed to whisper before closing his eyes and slumping back against the crate.

"Hey C'mon buddy. Stay with me." Peter said lightly slapping Neal to get his attention.

Blue eyes fluttered open, pleading. "I'm tired...Want sleep."

Peter stood back and surveyed the young man in front of him. He was too frail with the fever coursing his body to get up and walk so there was really one thing left to do. Peter bent down and slid one arm beneath Neal's legs and the other beneath his head.

Neal awoke with a start as Peter got up with him in his arms, bridal style. "Huh... you're strong..." Peter glanced down at the man in his arms, surprised to see him smiling softly.

"No Buddy, you are the one who is too thin." He chuckled shaking his head and making his way out of the warehouse and towards his Ford.

He carefully opened the door to the passenger seat, trying not to jostle the sick man in his arms too much, and set him down lightly on the seat, shoving the papers and files out of the Neal was seated he pulled and secured the seat belt against his waist and lowered the back of the seat so that Neal would be comfortable. He shut the door and got in on the other side, gathering up all the files which he had shoved to the floor and dumping them on the backseat. He took in the youth sleeping peacefully besides him, looking even younger and innocent than his original 26 years. He softly pushed back the hair that was falling on his eyes again. "Peter?", the con- man seemed to sense him in his sleep. Peter smiled and started the engine, on his way home.

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><p>As usual people Read and Review!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: This chapter contains spoilers for 'Forging Bonds'.

Pulling up in front of his house, Peter forgot all his earlier grumbling about El not being home and thanked god for it. At least she didn't have to see what the cruelty of some heartless people had reduced Neal to. Neal, whose smile had charmed and conned thousands out of thousands; Neal, whose wit had kept Peter on his toes for three memorable years, that same Neal had been abused and violated and now lay fever ridden, delirious with fatigue and illness, in the seat beside him.

Peter turned the keys and pulled them out. He quickly got out of the car and ran up the stairs to unlock the door to his house. He calmed the excited dog that ran out to greet him by scratching him behind the ears and told him to go and lie down by the couch. He then turned and made his way back to his car.

Neal was still sleeping and by the looks of it, he was having a nightmare. His eyes were darting from side to side beneath his closed eyelids and he was muttering under his breath. Peter could take an educated guess as to the subject of the young con's nightmare, so after opening the seat belt he quickly nudged him awake. "Hey buddy, c'mon let's get you inside."

Neal awoke with a violent start and for a moment he shrank away from Peter, blue eyes gazing at him warily, until they seemed to recognize him and he relaxed visibly. "Where are..?" he seemed unable to continue his question but stared at Peter instead.

"We are at my house kiddo, and you need to get inside. Now stay still and I'll carry you in." Peter answered him, moving his arms beneath him to pick him up.

"But you got to kiss…me first" Neal murmured weakly as Peter carried him over the threshold and into the house.

Peter looked down at him, surprised, and then chuckled. "Huh, no such luck. I'm in no mood to commit polygamy. Consider this more of a kidnapping and less of a marriage." He countered setting Neal slowly on the couch. The young man's feeble attempt at making a joke at Peter's expense had given him some hope. A Neal who managed to quip one liners in such a state was a Neal who'll recover.

"Now you stay here for a while. I'll get you something to eat. You must be starving." Peter told him. He wasn't sure that Neal had heard him until he tried to ruffle his hair and got his hand weakly slapped away. Smiling he went to the kitchen to fix Neal something.

"Hey sleepy head, get up. Dinner's ready." Peter said setting the tray of soup and water on the table and moving Neal so that he was sitting up.

"Water…" Neal rasped taking in the tray in front of him and Peter grimaced. Of course he needed something to drink, why hadn't he thought of that before?

Peter held the glass to Neal's parched and cracked lips and Neal starting gulping it down hurriedly. "Hey go slow! You'll choke yourself!" Peter warned removing the glass and putting the bowl of tomato soup on the con's lap.

Neal stared at the soup and then looked up at Peter. "Why are you doing this?" The question was asked so softly that Peter almost didn't catch it.

"Hey! N My cooking is not that bad you know. And besides you need to eat." Peter replied with a glint in his eye.

"Peter… You know that isn't what I meant." Neal stared at him, completely serious for once.

Peter was silent for a few minutes and stared at his hands. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Neal raise the spoon to his lips only to spill all the soup out, unable to hold it straight in his quivering hands. Peter took the spoon from him gently and slowly brought it to his mouth. Neal looked him in the eye for a second before opening his mouth.

"I don't know why I am doing this. But I do know that I cannot send you back to prison. Not after knowing what happened…" At this Neal looked away, ashamed.

"Neal, look at me." Peter said softly, sensing Neal's self-disgust. "What those people did was wrong. No one should be treated like that, no matter what they have done."

"So you really won't send me back?" Neal looked at him, big blue eyes round with surprise and hope.

"I don't know what I'm going to do right now. But no I will try not to send you back. Not if I can help it." It broke Peter's heart to see the undiminished relief that coursed through the body of the con in front of him at these words. The poor kid had been through enough. He would do everything in his power to prevent him from going back to where there would be no one to look over him, to protect him. "Now open your mouth, this soup is getting cold."

When dinner was over Neal settled back on the couch and closed his eyes. Peter got up to take the empty tray to the kitchen and brought Neal a glass of water and a cooling pad to help bring down the fever, which had improved considerably as Neal had gotten some energy. He sat on the floor besides Neal and placed the cooling pad on his forehead.

"Peter, are you there?" Neal murmured half asleep.

"Yea buddy I'm right here." Peter assured him taking hold of his hand and pressing it gently.

"Stay Peter… else bad people will come back…" Neal whispered.

"Go to sleep son. I'm right here." Peter gave his hand another gentle squeeze and brushed the bangs falling on the young man's forehead. "If they come back they'll have to go through me."

Even when he was no more than a file on his desk, Peter had felt an unexplainable pull towards the young man. Then he had opened the file and gazed in wonder at the bond, its perfect beauty making it unable for him to believe that it was forged. And yet it was. There had been no face and no name at first and James Bonds had gripped Peter's life. Then there was a sketch, and a name. Slowly but surely Peter had become acquainted with the enigma that was Neal Caffery. Or Nicholas Halden at that time. And the time that Peter had spent chasing him had developed between the two of them a special bond. Neal was good but Peter was slowly getting better.

He was catching up with the con man, always just one step behind him. And as if Neal had noticed this he started leaving clues at crime scenes, clues that only Peter would understand. And thus the game had started. Actually it was less of a game and more of a dance. It seemed like they were courting each other, each individual matching the excellence of grace and speed of the other. All that remained was the finale: who would win this game? Which of the two amazing performers would tire fast?

Though at that time Peter would never have admitted it, but those days had been the best days of his life. He actually felt alive while playing the game with an opponent of his caliber and it had been with not a small bit of disappointment that Peter had claimed victory over the infamous Neal Caffery.

Now looking at the sleeping man in front of him, Peter wished that he hadn't caught him at all. What would have happened? He wouldn't have gotten the fast promotion and amazing reputation, but Neal would have been happy. He would have had a life with Kate, and his boyish innocence would never have been marred by the cruelties of prison. Taking in the lean form spread over his couch, the chiseled features, and the slightly hitched breathe, Peter vowed that happen what may. He would not allow this man to put one foot in a prison cell again. He would look for a way to make his remaining sentence disappear or any other alternative, and if he didn't find anything he would help Neal escape. The law be damned. Peter Burke will not mess up Neal Caffery's life any further than he already had.

So far tell me what you think about it. RnR!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thank you for all those who reviewed, you have my undying gratitude as this was my first story for this fandom and you really made me feel like as if I belonged.

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><p>Neal gasped. It was the same man; the one in the lab coat and the evil grin! He tried to run but the big guard caught him. Again!. And then they… but this was a nightmare, right? He was safe now... Safe? He had run away… The whole FBI must be behind him! And Peter would never leave him alone… Wait, Peter had already caught him… right? But he wasn't back in prison; the mattress wasn't this soft there…<p>

He woke up with a start and tried to move. But something held him back. Someone was holding his hand. Neal squinted in the semi darkness, dread and fear making it hard to breathe; and relaxed when he saw Peter sitting right beside him, asleep. He lay back again and closed his eyes. If Peter was here then he was OK. Peter had promised him that the bad man would not find him till Peter was there. He drifted back into the darkness. This time when he dreamed, it was that of a green meadow, as green as Kate's eyes…

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><p>Peter woke up with a horrible kink in his neck. He must have fallen asleep while trying to comfort Neal who had started having the nightmares again. His whole body protested to sleeping in such a position as he got up but he stifled the groan that threatened to come out of his lips, unwilling to risk waking the poor kid up. He finally seemed to be sleeping peacefully.<p>

He walked to the kitchen and picking up the phone he dialed El's number. Talking to his wife made him feel better and after he assuring her that he was at home and completely fine and that of course she can stay at her mother's place for a couple of days and talking for more than an hour, he hung up and started thinking of more serious matters.

He was housing a fugitive in his house. That was a serious offense in the eyes of the law. He needed to think of a solution and fast. A solution which did not end in Neal going back to prison for another four years.

He walked back into the living room and pulled up an armchair so it was directly besides the couch he sat down and got comfortable. He wouldn't be able to think of anything in this sleep ridden state anyway…

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><p>The next time Peter woke up it was to his phone ringing. It was Hughes, his senior agent at the office. He glanced at the clock, it was already 8 am.<p>

"Sorry Sir, I slept in. I'll be at the office in 15 minutes," he said as soon as he picked up the phone.

"No Peter, take the day off. You won't be able to catch anyone if you don't catch any sleep. I know you must have been awake the whole night reading and re-reading Caffery's file." Hughes cut off his apology.

Peter shut the phone after making sure his boss wasn't kidding and thanked the well timed softness that Hughes had displayed. He had a sick runaway at his house; he couldn't have left him alone and gone to the office… only to work on catching him.

He needed an added set of brains to work out a solution to Neal's problem. Getting up to make coffee he dialed Diana's number.

Diana was on her way to the office when her phone buzzed. Why was Peter calling her so early in the morning? "Yea boss, I'm on my way to the office." She picked up.

"Hi Diana, Hughes told me to take the day off today. He said I wasn't getting enough sleep." Peter told her sounding like as if he hadn't slept at all throughout the night, she agreed with Hughes on this one and told Peter so.

"Yea I get that. But I want you to come over at my place as soon as you can after finishing your morning routine at the office." Peter ordered her. Of course Peter would want her to come over and work from his home. If Hughes told him to take the day off, that didn't mean that Peter would actually listen, she thought, smiling.

Peter entered the living room with his coffee only to find Neal awake and sitting on the couch, looking around the room.

"Peter? What am I doing on your couch?" Neal asked catching sight of him. Then his intense gaze moved to the cup in peter's hands. "OK scratch that question. Can I have some coffee instead?" Big blue eyes turned hopefully back at him.

Peter chuckled softly. "You can… I think. But first you need to clean up a bit." He replied setting his coffee on the table and moving to help Neal who was trying to get up. "I don't think you'll be able to make it up the stairs, so how about you just use the bathroom in my study?"

"Yea that's fine. I can walk you know." Neal said contradicting the deathly grip he had on Peter's arm. Peter just smiled and led him to the bathroom.

He was fixing breakfast for the both of them when the doorbell rang. That must be Diana, he thought wiping his hand on the kitchen towel and making his way to the door.

"Diana, that was really quick. Thank you for coming", he opened the door and greeted his probie gesturing that she should come inside. He shut the door after letting Satchmo out and turned back to find Diana standing in the middle of his living room with her gun drawn and pointed at Neal who had chosen that moment to walk in, rubbing his face in a towel. When he saw the gun pointed at him, he froze in mid stance, his eyes darting to Peter, silently begging for help.

"Whoa! Take it easy Diana. It's OK. He didn't break in." Peter rushed forwards before the situation could spiral out of control. He put one hand one the gun which was still pointing at Neal and slowly lowered it down.

"Boss that's Cafffery!" Diana hissed through her teeth.

"I know who he is, now will you let me explain?" Peter asked her and she finally tore her gaze away from the conman who hadn't taken a single breathe the whole time, and looked at him. She gave him a small nod and put the gun away.

Peter walked around the table and made his way to Neal, who was still in some kind of shock at having a gun pointed at him early in the morning. "Hey, it's Ok, she's a friend. I called her so she can help figure out what to do." Peter held him lightly at the elbow and led him into the kitchen. "You stay here and have breakfast and I'll explain matters to her, OK?"

Peter stared at him till he gave a little nod to show that he had understood, and then walked out of the kitchen, though not before ruffling Neal's hair, which earned him a groan from a mouth full of cereal.

Diana had first been disapproving of Peter's actions of housing a criminal, and then appalled at hearing the reason why he had run. Right now she was deep in thought about what could be done. "We could submit the tape to court and ask them to consider it before ruling out another sentence to Caffery," she suggested.

"You know that won't help the sentencing. They will sentence him to another four years in prison, and then tell him to press charges against the doctor. And the time that the case against the doctor would go on, Neal would have to spend in prison with that same doctor and guards." Peter ran his hand through his hair. "That is something I will not allow, Diana. He won't go back to prison."

"Boss he will have to go back, one way or the other." Diana sighed, exasperated. "You can't just keep him around on a leash you know…"

"Yes he can." She was cut off by Neal, who had just walked in. Both the agents jumped, not accustomed to being sneaked up on.

"Neal, I thought I told you to stay in the kitchen…" Peter started, and then trailed off. "Wait, what did you just say?" he asked, pulling out a chair for the con man to sit upon.

"Peter, there is no way that you can keep me completely out of prison…" Neal was cut off by Peter.

"I told you Neal, I'm not sending you back to prison." Peter told him with an air of finality.

"Let me finish." Neal held up a hand. "There is no way you can keep me completely out of prison other than the rehabilitation program." Neal paused to catch his breathe. He still seemed weak from the fever.

"Of course! The tracking anklet!" Peter asked excitedly, catching on to what Neal was saying, though Diana still looked lost.

"There's a new rehabilitation program which was introduced a few weeks ago, for white collar criminals who have not been convicted for murder. It is an exchange system. They get to stay out of prison in exchange for their services consulting for the White Collar division of the FBI." Peter explained to Diana.

"And the FBI can monitor and limit their movements with the help of a tracking anklet which is set for a pre-determined radius." Neal piped in helpfully.

"Yes! Neal you're a geni…." Peter paused noting the grin on the con man's face. "A genetic idiot." He continued, smiling as the grin turned into a pout.

"Right so all that is left to do is run this with the courts." Diana reminded both the men in front of her, smiling.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Neal Caffery, taking your first hand expertise at criminology, and the fact that you turned yourself in after escaping from prison into consideration, the court has decided that you'll be allowed to assist the FBI in a case rather than go back to prison. Your behavior during this case and the reports from your handler Special Agent Peter Burke would then determine your future."<p>

* * *

><p>Weeks ago the court had assigned him to Peter and they had set out together to catch the Dutchman. They had figured out who he was and a little bit of innovative thinking on Neal's part had enabled the FBI to catch Curtis Hagen and put him behind bars.<p>

But now Neal paced around in the balcony of his rented studio apartment. Though to call it a studio was a bit of an understatement. It was more of a penthouse, a penthouse with a million dollar view. That view did not interest him right now. He was more interested in the man who had just walked in, though he hid it very well… Or so he thought.

Peter Burke noticed the worry and excitement that Neal was trying to hide in his darting eyes and his slightly rigid posture. But he decided to play along and drag it out. He sat down on the small chair overlooking the most beautiful view he had ever seen, and poured out a cup of Italian Roast coffee in the small cups. Neal sat down across him. "Peter…" his voice was quiet and subdued.

One look at the ex-con's face told him how worried he was and not having the heart to torment him any farther, he slid the badge across the table to him. "We figured that if we didn't make you one of these, you'll forge one yourself." He said smiling at the grin that lit up the young man's face.

"I'm official!" Neal said grinning from ear to ear and staring at the badge.

"You're a consultant." Peter corrected him. "And I own you for four years." Noticing his smile falter for a moment Peter asked: "You Ok with that?"

Neal looked at the man sitting in front of him. The man who had caught him and put him in prison, the man who had taken the time to find out why he had escaped, the man who had seen a hurting kid in that warehouse instead of a runaway convict, the man who had nursed him back to health, then battled against the system to keep him out of prison, the man who he trusted would stand by his side no matter what happens, was it OK if he worked with him for four years?

"Peter, thank you." Neal said quietly after a long silence. "You don't know what this means to me…" he looked away unable to continue.

"Son, I do. Just promise me that you'll make me proud." Peter asked standing up and ruffling Neal's hair. For once the young man didn't complain. He looked up at the man he trusted and respected.

"Of course Peter." He answered softly.

* * *

><p>And that's done! Please leave a review people, they make me very happy :D<p> 


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